Isn't This What Friends do?
by mistamie
Summary: Side story to One Big Misunderstanding or possible stand alone. After his brother's death, Matthew's life had grown dark.  Can a certain Russian help him recover? Fluffy.


**Hetalia isn't mine.**

Canada sat alone in the meeting room, the first one there. He'd left…ku…Kuma…the bear at home, far too upset to have to deal with him.

Canada stared at the empty seat situated across from him, America's nameplate on it. Didn't they realize that the man who used to sit there had been buried just the month before? Arthur certainly did, and wasn't coming to the meetings this week, holing himself up in his house, back across the pond.

"America…Alfred…" How difficult it was to be the surviving twin, the only piece from a matching, unique set. His connection to his twin was different, but apparently still there, and he'd felt fear those first months, before they had word of his brother's death. Now, all he felt was the deepest sorrow.

Maybe that was what death felt like.

RUSCAN

Russia strolled into the meeting hall, severely bored. No one was very talkative at the hotel, some still wearing black. Death was so boring. Russia, though he'd never admit it, wished America had never gone off and died. After all, who was he going to argue with in the meeting today?

He stepped into the meeting room to sniffling. He looked around for the sound, wondering if there was any possible chance he'd caused it.

He spotted a semi-transparent figure hunched over in his chair. C…Cana…da. Canada, that was it. He watched as the smaller man cried, his tears marring his pale face, causing it to blotch.

For some reason, the Canadian's crying made him angry. But before he acted on his anger, he heard the Canadian whisper something faintly.

"My brother…my best friend. I'm alone once more…Alfred, why'd you go? If I-I'd ever known that that last hockey game we watched, that that last night we played video games, that night you wanted to stay up for an hour longer…if I'd known it was going to be the last time I'd ever see you, god…" Loneliness...And loss. Russia knew how that felt. Even though he had two sisters, and those three…acquaintances, he'd always felt alone, and if he ever lost Ukraine, or her..., he wasn't sure what he'd do… Then he thought of something else.

He walked over and sat next to Canada, startling Matthew, who'd thought he was alone. No, there next to him, was Russia, smiling down at him, in a creepy way.

"I will be your new best friend. Da!" Russia looked straight forward, but slowly moved closer and closer to the Canadian, who now was scared for his life.

The meeting went extremely slow for Matthew, as Russia kept starring at him, inching closer to him, and even going so far as to start petting Canada's hair, playing with the curls. Canada, who was normally anxious by disposition, was horrified by the whole event. He got up and excused himself to the restroom.

After taking care of his nervous bladder, Canada went to the sink, and bent down, splashing his face with water. As he looked up, feeling much better, and calmer, he saw Russia's face in the mirror.

"Maple!" He swung around and fell backward into the tiled floor of the men's room. "Russia, w-what are you d-doing here?"

"Making sure Matvey is alright, da."

"I was j-just using the bathroom!"

"I was just being a good best friend, comrade! You looked paler than normal."

Matthew cursed his life at that moment, his anxiety breaking out into a full out attack, and Canada realized, that if all those stories were true about what Russia did to people…he was alone, in the men's bathroom, with this psycho.

"Food." Canada looked up at the Russian, confused by his random blurting of words.

"W-what?"

"Food!"

"W-what about food?"

"It makes people feel better. You need to feel better. Food, now." Russia grabbed his arm, and dragged him to his feet, and out of the men's room. Matthew wanted to tell the Russian that he was the one causing Canada's distress, but clammed up.

_Brother, if you're up there, watch over me…_

RUSCAN

It was a diner, some place close by, and even though it wasn't nearly lunch time break for the meeting Matthew had been dragged away from, Russia across from him was chugging massive amounts of Vodka.

"Eat." Mathew starred down at the pancakes he'd ordered, barely picking at his favorite food.

"I don't feel like it."

"No, you think you will eat it. Eat up, comrade. You never know when your next meal will be." Canada sighed, and started to force himself to eat. He was calming down, knowing Russia probably wouldn't attack him in a public place. And as his anxiety was leaving, his sadness returned.

"Comrade, finish your food, you will feel better."

"Food won't bring him back."

"Neither will tears. You should talk more to your best friend."

"Russia, I really am not in the moo-"

"Ivan. Matvey, we should look at animals in the park. Cute animals make people feel better, da?" Once again, Matthew was dragged away, the waitress being paid quickly as they left, Ivan with bottle of vodka in his hand.

They sat in the park for an hour, Matthew having Russia's death grip of a hold on his arm the whole time.

"A rabbit over there. See, it has no idea how lucky it is to be alive. They taste good with vodka."

"Russia, why do we have to—" Matthew was tired and sad by that point in the 'adventure', and just wanted to crawl into his hotel bed and forget all about this day.

He remembered America forcing to play Frisbee here with him, and how England had come along, complaining it was hot, going over and sitting on a bench with tea. They'd played for a while, and Canada liked it much more than catch. Then, Alfred had freaked out when the Frisbee hit Arthur in the head, and had told him for the next half hour about how sorry he was, and Arthur just pushing him off, smiling. Memories…

"Ivan."

"What?" Canada had been lost in his mind for a few minutes, and had totally lost the strain of the conversation.

"Call me Ivan. I like to believe I am normal at times as well, you know." 'Ivan' smiled, and looked back at the rabbit. _Could Russia actually be human?_

RUSCAN

Ivan forced Matthew to go to lunch with him the rest of the week, and the next meeting, and the next. Canada eventually relaxed into the 'friend' concept, and found that he was starting to enjoy Ivan's company. Ivan never hurt him, was kind, even. So, Matthew felt, maybe it was time to return the kindness.

"Da?"

"Hello, Ivan, it's me, Canada, um…I-I w-was—"

"Matvey!"

"?"

"What? I can't understand you, Matvey." Matthew hadn't watched a hockey game last since his brother came up…that last time Matthew had seen him before he went off to war…England had no interest in hockey…or life, right now, so he'd nothing to do, and he didn't know if he could watch it alone, so he asked Ivan, his friend…

"Would you l-like to come over and watch a g-game of hockey with me?"

"Da, I would."

Ivan arrived at his house later that week, and they now were on opposite ends of the couch, watching the hockey game. Matthew liked the game, sure, but he felt one tear betray his sadness, sliding down his face. Then, he was pulled into a hug.

"Ivan?"

Ivan said nothing, and continued to watch the game, but simply held the Canadian in his arms, his expression unwavering. Canada felt a strange flutter in his heart, and turned once again to the TV.

Ivan looked down and realized that Matthew was asleep against him. He looked so peaceful in sleep. Ivan smiled, and shifted to get more comfortable, when there came a tug on his pant leg.

"Food." There was that bear Canada carried with him. Russia got up without waking the Canadian, then went into the kitchen.

"Bears eat vodka?"

"Fish." Russia started to rummage through the fridge and the freezer, finally finding some frozen 'fish'. He didn't know why he was feeding the bear, probably because it was Matvey's.

Ivan had grown accustomed to the boy, and found that he liked him immensely, something that startled him beyond belief. Every time he saw his Matvey sad, he wanted to take him in his arms, and never let him go, to wipe away every tear…

He dumped the fish into a bowl and left it on the floor. Then he went back to the couch. Matthew was still laying there, and Russia ran a hand through his hair, loving the feel of the curls. Yellow, like wheat, soft as a feather, and light as the falling snow.

Russia picked up the thin Canadian and carried him upstairs to what he believed to be the Master bedroom, and lay the Canadian down on his bed, pulling the covers around him, tucking him in, and putting his glasses on the side table next to a photo of the Canadian and a certain American, who was hugging his brother, a look of happiness on both their faces. As he turned away, he heard mumbling in French.

"Bonne nuit, papa Francis…" Ivan stopped and turned back around to look at the subconscious Canadian.

"_Good night, Matvey_." He said quietly, hesitantly kissing Canada on the forehead, then turning and walking downstairs to sleep on the couch, his flight leaving the day after next, and no hotel open at this time of night.

RUSCAN

The next morning, Matthew woke in his bed, not able to place how'd he'd gotten there…unless…no.

"Ivan, how did I…?" He found the Russian drinking vodka at eight in the morning.

"I carried you, da. Friends do that for-"

"No, my own brother didn't do that, even. He'd usually just dump a blanket over my head and sleep in my bed…" There was the fluttering in his chest again.

RUSCAN

"Come on!"

"No, snow is awful! I hate snow!"

Canada sat in a snowdrift, trying to convince Russia to come outside with him. So far the Russian was being difficult. Or he was until a well aimed snowball hit the back of his head.

Matthew now was hiding behind the snow bank for dear life, Ivan unrelenting in the fight. Then, for a spilt second, Matthew saw the shadow before he was tackled by the Russian. He tensed for a second, seeing the slightly crazed look in Ivan's eyes, but relaxed as he watched it fade.

They both stared at each other, Canada pinned under Russia, the falling snow slowly drifting past them, their faces very close. Mattie's heart beat a mile a minute, their breaths coming in gasps. Then Russia leaned down and kissed his forehead before getting up and walking back towards the house, leaving a confused and strangely happy Canadian to lie in the snow.

_Friends don't do that…_

They sat together under blankets by the fire, sipping hot cocoa, though Matthew was sure Ivan's was spiked.

"Ivan, o-outside, when you…" He didn't have the courage to go on.

"When I what, Matvey?" The Canadian dropped the subject, not wanting to find an answer different from the one his heart had been whispering.

"Nothing."

RUSCAN

Canada drove Ivan to the airport and waited as he check in. He was about to head off into security when Matthew stopped him.

"I just want to give you something for the companionship you've given me over the last year." Matthew went up as if to kiss his cheek, but as the Russian turned to see what Matthew meant, Canada ended up kissing him right on the lips. And found he didn't mind one bit.

Russia was surprised by this kiss, and the fact that Matthew hadn't pulled away. But what he was most surprised of was that he was kissing the Canadian back.

He finally pulled away. "Well, Matvey, that was _not something friends do. _But we aren't just friends anymore, now are we_?" _And with that, Matthew was pulled into an embrace.

"No, I suppose we aren't." Canada smiled, happiest he'd ever been since before his brother's death, his face a-glow as he was kissed once more.

**Author's Note: RUSCAN!**

**This is a side story to my big fic, One Big Misunderstanding (usuk).**

**Thanks to fricken ray of sunshine for the suggestion.**

**Yep.**


End file.
